Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments
by Lunareala
Summary: It has been 15 years since Sarah Williams met a king with mismatched eyes. But time erodes all memories, until they become nothing but dreams. Unexpected circumstances land Sarah back in the Labyrinth, where she is forced to accept its reality. Married off to a man she has never even met, what will her new life have in store for our heroine?
1. Chapter 1

She stared at the ring glinting in the candle light, then at the man kneeled before her. He smiled at her lovingly, eyes shining with warmth and adoration. The perfect ending to a perfect night of exquisite home cooked food, wine and laughter. The remnants of their meal still lay on the table next to her, until he had made a great show of pulling the ring box from his pocket and kneeling before her. Sarah's bare toes curled in the fluffy rug under her feet.

"Will you marry me?" he said, and took her hand. She had expected to feel elated, overjoyed even, when this moment arrived. Instead, she felt a pressure in her chest, a kind of suffocating feeling like someone was squeezing the heart and lungs inside. She felt like she was under water and running out of air.

"I…" she hesitated. "I… don't know. I'm sorry Derek, can you… can you give me time?"

His expression darkened, "Time? Why do you need time? We have been together since we were teenagers. You either want to marry me, or you don't. It's a simple question, Sarah."

"It's just… I expected this to feel… different."

"Different? Different how? Like how it is in those books you read? They're not _real_ Sarah! They're fantasies written by lonely people!" His expression softened and he said quietly. "I love you. Isn't that enough?"

Sarah bit her lip and stared at him and the ring, before turning her head away. "I don't know."

"Fine!" Derek exploded. "If this is how you're going to be, I don't think we should marry at all. You know Sarah, all those books have created impossible expectations for you. No one is ever going to be good enough for you, are they? No one _real_ at least," he sneered and stood up. Snapping the ring box closed he stalked to the door.

"You know what, Sarah? You deserve to marry someone exactly like in your books. You really do. What was it they said in that one book you're always reading? 'I wish the goblins would come and take you away?' Well I do wish the goblins _would_ come and take you away right now, and make you marry one of them!" Slamming the door behind him, he was gone.

Sarah stood in the chair by the table, her back gone rigid and an unnamed terror spreading from her tight chest, all the way through her arms and legs, until it felt like her veins were full of liquid ice.

"It's just a story" she whispered to herself, "the last time was just a dream."

She jumped when there was a knock at the door, and then laughed at herself shakily. "That's probably Derek. Goblins wouldn't knock!" She got up slowly and made her way to the door. The hallway outside was empty. She stepped outside and looked both ways but could see no one. Shaking her head, she stepped back in and closed the door. She turned around to go back to the table and gasped.

"Hello Sarah. What a pleasant surprise." Jareth the Goblin King was lounging on his throne, dangling one leg over the right armrest. No longer in her own apartment, Sarah looked around her, the ice spreading back through her veins. The throne room looked different. Much larger to begin with, more clean and formal. The walls were made of light stone and the floor looked like marble. Golden light flooded through the floor length glass windows, bathing the tapestries on the walls in a shimmering glow. There were groups of people standing around, dressed in colourful old fashioned clothes. Not all of them, not even half, were goblins. These looked more like the people who had attended the ball in her dream all those years ago. Goblin guards stood next to the huge double doors and next to Jareth's throne, but these did not look at all like the bumbling soldiers she had battled back then. These guards looked alert and competent. Why was nothing how she remembered it?

"I'm dreaming. This is not real." Sarah told herself. Jareth laughed.

"Oh precious, is that what you told yourself? That it was all a _dream_? That it never happened? Frankly, I'm hurt! I put in so much effort to make everything just like you expected it to be, and then you go on and believe it wasn't _real_?"

Sarah glared at him. "Any moment now, I'm going to wake up and I'll be back to my own apartment. You're just a figment of my imagination. You're only here because Derek mentioned goblins!" A slow smile spread on Jareth's face. The kind of smile a predator has when they know their prey is trapped. The smile of a white shape lazily making its way through the water, towards and unwary swimmer. The kind of smile that made Sarah feel both hot and cold at the same time.

"Oh, he did mention goblins, didn't he," Jareth purred. "He mentioned something else too… marriage, I believe it was."

Sarah pursed her lips and stared at him mutely. Suddenly a hot pain blossomed from her arm and she yelped, cradling the wounded arm to her chest. A tall woman was standing next to her with a needle, smiling pleasantly. "Still think you're dreaming?" She drawled, and everyone in the room laughed. "I can prick you again, if you're still not sure."

"That's enough Muireann. Step away." Jareth waved them woman off, who bobbed a curtsy before gliding back to the other guests. He straightened himself in his chair and leaned forward, staring at Sarah eagerly.

" _Do_ you still think you're dreaming, precious?"

Sarah rolled back her sleeve gingerly, to stare at the blood blossoming from the tiny hole in her arm. It hurt and there was no denying what that meant.

"No…" she whispered, her voice both an admission and a plea.

"Excellent! That means we can get this wedding underway!" Jareth clapped his hands and two attendants appeared next to Sarah, carrying a white dress. The dress glittered in the light, millions of tiny diamonds sewn into it. It looked exactly like the dress she had worn when she was 15. Sarah gazed at the dress, troubled by the memories of that dance, by the feelings temporarily evoked by dancing in Jareth's arms. For a fleeting moment back then, she had almost given in. His allure had been too great and she had been so close to succumbing, until she suddenly remembered her little brother and the cruel game he was playing with her. She had been so ashamed afterwards. He had almost managed to fool her and… wait. What had he just said?

"Wedding? What wedding?" Sarah narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "To you? I'm not marrying _you_. You have no power over me!"

"On the contrary precious. You were wished away, which means I have all the power over you. In fact, one might say I _own_ you. However, I have no wish to marry you either. That offer expired a long time ago." Jareth smiled his predatory smile again. "Have you already forgotten what your boyfriend wished for?"

Sarah stared at the Goblin King, her eyes widening in horror as realization dawned and the room erupted in laughter anew.

 _Well I do wish the goblins would come and take you away right now, and make you marry one of them!_


	2. Chapter 2

"You can't be serious!" Sarah screamed over the laughter. "I'm _not_ marrying a goblin! I'm human!"

Jareth stopped laughing and looked at Sarah coldly. "That can be fixed, precious. I don't usually change adults into goblins, but I'll make an exception for you."

Sarah stiffened and fought down her rising panic, until it was replaced by hot anger pulsing through her. She glared at Jareth from beneath her brows, knowing she was behaving just like the teenager she was years ago, but unable to help herself. He just seemed to have that effect on her. He brought out the mule headed stubbornness and sulky disposition she had thought were behind her.

Jareth sighed "I won't turn you into a goblin, Sarah. I won't even make you marry one. No matter what you think, I am not _that_ cruel. However, "the predatory smile was back "I do have a husband for you, one that I don't think you will be very pleased with."

He gestured to the guests in the room, who parted to allow a man to walk towards the throne. He was tall, like a human, with the sharp equine facial features of the Fae. However, unlike Jareth and the other Fae present, he was dressed in tattered, dirty clothing, and his hair had the wildness of poverty, not careful styling. He reached Sarah and stood next to her, before bowing to the Goblin King.

"This is Turlach. He is… a traveller. A seeker of fortune. Recently he has settled in the Labyrinth. He lives in a shack in the garden district." Jareth sneered. "Derek wished for you to get the husband you deserve, and here he is." Sarah stared at the Goblin King, and then at the dishevelled stranger who stared blankly ahead. His eyes were empty and his expression cold, as he stood next to her regarding the king. To Sarah it seemed clear he did not want to marry her any more than she wanted to marry him.

Jareth gestured to the glittering dress. "This dress is my wedding gift to you. After all, it _was_ made for you all those years ago. However, I suppose it might be better for you to not wear it. Where you'll be living, you'll only end up ruining it. Take it as a reminder. You may go with your husband now."

Sarah frowned at him again. "Shouldn't there be something more?"

"Something more, precious?"

"A ceremony, a priest, something!" Sarah spread her arms in an irritated gesture.

"Oh, I do believe you are right." Jareth smirked at her "'By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.' There, I believe that is sufficient to make it official." He nodded at Turlach. "My blessings to you. Now take her out of my sight."

Turlach grabbed Sarah's arm, bowed stiffly to the Goblin King, and began to march out of the throne room. His fingers dug painfully into Sarah's arm and she tried to wriggle free of his grasp. "Let go of my arm! You're hurting me! I can walk by myself you know!" Turlach ignored her, and kept half dragging her with him. "Are you even listening to me?!" Sarah demanded, frustration beginning to grow in her as she continued to wriggle her arm and try to pry his fingers off. She didn't even notice they were outside, or that she had started to cry out of frustration, until he suddenly stopped. For the first time, her new husband turned to look at her and let go of her arm.

"You're crying."

"What?" Sarah stammered, and rubbed her aching arm. First a needle and then fingers digging into it in an iron grip, had left her arm severely bruised and hurting.

Turlach sighed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you. I know you don't want this any more than I do. It's just… whenever I see that smug look of his, I want to smash his face in!"

"Who?" Sarah asked, confused. She suddenly felt completely out to sea and the whole day was taking its toll on her. At no point had she been given a moment to take in what was happening, and everything seemed to be happening faster than it should.

"Jareth. The Goblin King. I don't know what possessed me into settling here, despite the fact that _he's_ the Labyrinth's ruler. I cannot stand the man!"

"Oh." Still overwhelmed by everything that had happened, it seemed to be the only reply Sarah could muster.

"Come on. I live pretty far into the Labyrinth, so we should get going."

"Can't we stop for a while? I need to… I need to take this all in. It's happened so fast…"

"Sorry, we can't. It'll be dark by the time we get there as it is."

"But… I don't even have any shoes." Turlach looked at Sarah's feet, which were indeed entirely bare. She wasn't even wearing any socks, and her feet looked like they had never encountered any hardships in their life. In fact, she looked like she had never encountered any hardships. She looked clean and soft and pretty, more like a lady than the wife of a poor tinkerer living in a shack. He slowly turned red from embarrassment and anger.

"I don't have any money," he admitted. "I can't buy you shoes. Not right now at least."

"I see…" Sarah said. She looked at the cloud of white glittering fabric in her arms. "He could have at least given me shoes with this then."

Turlach turned his eyes to the dress as well and stared at it critically. "Indeed… let me carry the dress for you. At least it'll be easier to walk without lugging that around too."

Sarah squeezed the dress to her chest and hesitated. For some reason the dress was giving her comfort. Reminding her of a very different past. A past when she was carefree and young and the world seemed so simple. He was right though, so eventually she handed the dress to him and they started walking away from the castle. The Goblin city seemed different, just like the castle had seemed different. The houses, which on her earlier visit had been tiny, were now a mix of very small goblin houses, slightly bigger dwarven houses and, to her, normal sized houses. The streets were bustling with all kinds of creatures, both big and small. Here and there she saw Fae men and women gliding among everyone else, startling in their beauty. Many of them were dressed in rich fabrics and fashions, while some wore more modest clothing. A large market place was full of people, inspecting goods laid out on tables underneath colourful awnings. Vendors called to passers-by to advertise their wares, the warm scent of spices hung in the air as the crowds pushed and jostled past. Turlach was striding through the crowds with a confidence that seemed out of place for someone in his position, and Sarah struggled to keep up, slipping on unnamed sticky and slippery liquids on the cobble stones of the market. It might be better to never know what it was she stepped on here. From the looks of some of the things on offer, it could be anything. Several of the vendors honed in on Sarah as she pushed past, trying to attract her attention.

 **"Heeere's nice beans orrr peas! Only ten pence a'peck for the lurvely lady!"**

 **"Oranges! Git chur oranges! Nice n' fresh!"**

Once they reached the edge of the market, the crowds thinned out a little and Sarah let out the breath she had been holding. Surrounded by people an all sides like it was a can of sardines, it had seemed difficult to take a deep breath. Turlach did not even look behind him to see if she was still following, forcing her to do an awkward little sprint to catch up.

"The Goblin city seems much larger than I remember," she commented.

"Does it? It's always been this way. For millennia as far as I know. Maybe you remember wrong?"

Sarah was about to answer but then thought better of it. Arguing seemed to have no point, especially as he seemed so certain of what he was saying. Millenia? The city had been like this for millennia? Then why had it appeared so different 15 years ago?

 _I have turned the world upside down…_

A voice floated through her thoughts. Jareth. That's what he had told her the last time she was here. Is this what he meant? The castle, the city… he had changed them. Made them less imposing, less real. It had all seemed so ridiculous back then… Lost in her own thoughts Sarah hurried after Turlach as they followed the winding streets of the city, all the way to the huge gates in the city wall. Her new husband stopped at the gates.

"Wait here. I'll have a word with the gate guards." With that he hurried off towards the office built into the wall next to the gates, leaving Sarah standing alone. People streamed in and out of the gates, some of them giving Sarah curious looks, but most of them ignoring her and focusing on their own inner worlds. A dwarf hobbled past her, and something in Sarah's mind clicked.

"Hoggle?" The dwarf turned and glared at her.

"Who? I ain't no Hoggle, who you calling a Hoggle?"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else." The dwarf gave her another glare and disappeared into the crowd, grumbling under his breath.

 _How could I have forgotten my friends?_ Sarah thought. _I wonder where they are now. I don't even know where Hoggle or Ludo live… I only know where to find Sir Didymus. I hope Jareth didn't hurt them for helping me back then._ She shuffled her bare feet on the cobbles. They were warm and smooth. Baked by the sun and worn out by thousands of passing through here, over and over again. _For millennia_ … if the city had been here that long, then how old was its ruler? Had he always been the ruler or just one in a long line? Were the fay truly immortal like they were in all of the stories? Turlach strode out of the guard office, whistling a jaunty tune, a self-satisfied look on his face. _If he is also a Fae, does that mean he's immortal too?_

"Let's get going. We've still got a ways to go! The ground is not going to be as easy to walk on once we leave the city, so if I walk too fast just let me know." He grinned at Sarah and strode towards the gates. Somehow, his sudden good mood was very annoying. He just seemed so… pleased with himself. _I wonder what he did in there._

They walked in silence through the gates and away from the city. Sarah lost in her thoughts and Turlach still whistling happily and greeting people as they passed. The road was rocky and uneven, just as he had warned her, and Sarah walked on the tiny rocks and pebbles gingerly. This was definitely not something she was used to. It felt like each and every bit of the ground was digging into the soles of her feet.

"Turlach…"

"Yes? What is it?"

"I don't know if I can keep going. All these rocks and pebbles are digging into my feet. They're sharp!"

"We can't stop now. We've still got a ways to go. Besides, it won't get any easier without shoes no matter what we do." He looked at her expectantly as she stood on the road biting her lower lip. Her feet were really beginning to hurt, but he was right. There wasn't really anything they could do. She nodded and kept walking. The land outside the walls of the city was not how she remembered it either. The land outside of the city was not how she remembered it either. There were small houses and fields here, with crops swaying in the wind. Further away she could see the hedges of a part of the maze she _did_ remember. They seemed to have been walking for hours and the hedges were steadily coming closer, when a sharp pain lanced through her foot making her cry out.

"What is it now?" Turlach said and turned to look at her.

Sarah bent her foot towards her and inspected the bottom of it. A sharp shrapnel of rock was lodged to her heel, imbedded quite deep. Blood was pooling around it. Turlach sighed.

"Take a seat on that rock over there and I'll take a look." He said in a resigned voice. Sarah hobbled over to the rock and sat down. Turlach knelt down and took hold of her foot. He prodded the rock carefully and then pulled it out in one swift movement. Blood began to flow out of the hole. He cursed.

"Of course you managed to get the biggest damn thing lodged in your foot." He reached for his tattered shirt and ripped off a piece. "This is dirty but it's the best I can do." He said as he wrapped it around her foot.

"Can you stand up?" he inquired. Sarah got up and cautiously tested her weight on the injured foot. Sharp pain shot up and she could feel blood pooling underneath.

"I don't know. It hurts a lot." She said fighting back tears.

"We have to keep going. We can't stop here."

"I can't walk on this foot. Can't you carry me?" She said imploringly and looked at Turlach. He stared and her and then looked at the pristine dress he was carrying. He was quiet for a while as he thought.

"No."

"No? Why not?" Sarah was shocked by his answer.

Turlach looked at her steadily "Because right now, this dress has more value to me than you do" he said steadily.

"You can either get up and walk or I can leave you here. It's your choice. I don't mean to be cruel to you, I really don't, but sometimes life is just not fair."

Still shocked by his callous answer, his words sliced through her like a knife. Sarah laughed.

"Not fair? Not fair? I wonder what your basis of comparison is!" She yelled, throwing at him the same words used on her many years ago.

"My basis of comparison? This is my basis of comparison." Turlach said spreading his arms to show off his tattered clothing, and then pointed at the city far away in the distance.

"Everyone in that city is better off than I am. I have nothing but the clothes on my back and the run down shack I built from things I could scavenge. So yes! Life is not fair! Some of us never get the chances afforded to others! But you wouldn't know anything about that, _precious_." He said, spitting the word used by Jareth at her like a curse.

"Now, I'm going to keep walking. Whether you follow me or not is up to you." He turned his back on Sarah and stalked off, leaving her staring after him. For several minutes she could not move, too stunned by his outburst. Finally, the throbbing pain in her foot woke her up, and she realised the sun was setting and she had nowhere to go. She took a careful step forward, wincing at the pain and holding back tears. She looked up and saw Turlach already a rather long distance away. She stiffened her back and took another step. And then another, until she was limping after her new husband in the darkening evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you to everyone reading so far! This chapter is pretty short, as I haven't had a lot of time to write. It's not a very action packed chapter either, but it will pick up from this, I promise! In the next chapter, we'll get to meet some old friends too.

...

Turlach was waiting for her by the door of a crude little cottage. The walls were made of crumbling stone, the hay on the roof looked half rotten and the windows were mostly cracked. The chimney looked like it might topple over if someone so much as coughed at it. To top it all off, the whole place looked filthy. Like someone had not only refused to clean it, but had applied themselves enthusiastically to spreading as much dirt, grime and muck on everything as they possibly could.

He swung the door open ceremoniously "Welcome to your new home, wife." The door nearly fell off its hinges. Sarah stared at the disaster of a house, too numb to react. Her feet were on fire, she was tired, she was hungry and she had just about given up caring about anything.

"No reaction?" Turlach asked, "None at all? This is now yours after all. _What's yours is mine_ and what's mine is mostly mine." He strode in and crouched by a sooty fireplace. "I'll get the fire going and boil some water so we can dress your feet. In the future though, this is your job. Cleaning and things…" He looked around himself disdainfully and curled his lip. "I must say, I'm at least happy there's someone to finally clean this place up." Sarah limped in and sighed as she sank into a rickety chair. "Why haven't you cleaned up? You have two hands and two feet, don't you? How did you even get this place so dirty?" she asked wearily.

Turlach looked at her surprised "Me? Clean? Cleaning is women's job. I'll cook when I have to, but I am _not_ doing any of that… sweeping around thing!" he waved his hand in a vague gesture.

Sarah had closed her eyes and was leaning her head against the chair back. "That's very medieval of you." She mumbled.

"It's the way things are here." Turlach said irritably, "women look after the house and the children, and the husband protects and provides. Oh, the nobility do things differently, there are even some women rulers, but this has always worked for us less fortunate, so why bother changing it? It's good for everyone to know their place in life, if you ask me." A faint rustling made Sarah crack her eyes open enough to see what her husband was doing. He was inspecting the dress in the flickering light of the fire, pursing his lips as he appraised the glittering stones sewn into it. He glanced at Sarah furtively, looking for all the world like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he noticed her looking, before bundling up the dress and stuffing it into an old dusty trunk. He began to noisily boil water and rip old pieces of cloth into strips which he then soaked in the piping hot water. Suddenly he was looming before Sarah.

"Let me take a look at your feet." He said.

Sarah cringed but didn't protest when he took a hold of her ankle and looked the bleeding wounds over. He looked displeased.

"I guess you'll just have to stay around the house until these heal and we can get you some shoes. I should have known this would happen. The women around here would have had no problem with walking without shoes, but I guess your feet are too used to plush carpets and comfortable shoes." A note of bitterness crept into his voice as he cleaned and dressed her feet. It was becoming obvious to Sarah that this man despised people who were "better off" with a passion souring into acrimony. Resentful and chauvinistic, what a perfect husband Jareth had found her. She sat in the chair by the fire as Turlach made a watery soup with leathery looking vegetables and unmentionable meat that could have come from anywhere, and then ate in silence. She pretended to fall asleep in the chair and was glad when he withdrew into the single bed without a comment.

….

For a few days, that was how they lived. During the day, Turlach would stalk around the cottage like a caged tiger, scribbling furiously onto scraps of paper and muttering to himself. Once, when he was out of sight, Sarah took a look at one of the scraps and discovered that he seemed to be writing a poem or a sonnet of some kind. All of the little scraps of paper had a different version of the same text. During the evenings he made gruel or watery soup from whatever he had in the pantry and then went to sleep in the bed. Sarah limped from the chair by the fire, onto a chair outside, which she had asked Turlach to move there. She sat there with her feet up on a stool, soaking up the sunshine and looking at the overgrown garden around the cottage. She could hear sounds of people somewhere further away, but not once did anyone walk past. In the evening, she limped back inside, ate with her husband and slept in the chair. Not once did he offer her the bed. Then one day, they ran out of food.

"Well, that's it." He said, "We need to do something to make money." He had been outside in the garden earlier, and now lifted a large bundle of pliable willow cuttings onto the table next to Sarah.

"Have you ever woven baskets?"

Sarah shook her head and Turlach snorted. "Of course you haven't, why did I even ask. I'll show you how to do it, and then you can make baskets for me to sell at the market." He created a frame on which he then deftly added willow cuttings, weaving in and out between the pieces of the frame. When he was finished, he had a pretty little basket, which had seemed to take him no time at all to create. Sarah tried to imitate him, she really did. But no matter what she did or how she positioned the willow cuttings, her baskets had holes where they weren't supposed to, and were a peculiar shape. Eventually, Turlach lifted his hand in defeat. His head was resting on the table, and he groaned.

"Enough, I'll make baskets to sell myself. You _really_ have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

"I told you I didn't," Sarah answered somewhat sullenly, irked by the tone of his voice.

"Yes, well, I clearly made the mistake of assuming you would learn."

Sarah ground her teeth and glared at Turlach, who didn't notice as he was still leaning his head on the table like a morose child.

"At least clean up a little around here, your feet should have healed enough to do that. You can do _that_ , can't you?" With that he lifted his head and gave her an exasperated look.

"Yes, I know how to clean." Sarah hissed between her teeth and got up. She limped to a broom leaning on a walk, and began to sweep the floor with barely constrained anger. Behind her, she heard Turlach sigh and begin to create another wicker basket, and it was all she could do to not hit him on the head with the broom. Cobwebs clung to the bristles, gathering dust as she swept furiously. From the looks of the cottage, it seemed like the broom had never been used. As a small act of pettiness, she made sure to sweep the dust out of the door in a way that some of it blew back on Turlach's face making him cough. She smiled insincerely and apologized, leaving him glaring at her. After that she felt a little better. She managed to sweep the floor and knock down cobwebs from the roof beams before her feet began to ache and she had to sit back down. The cottage looked marginally better. In the evening Turlach went straight to bed, saying he would leave for the market early in the morning. Sarah's stomach growled miserably, but there was nothing she could do about it as they had nothing to eat. She drank as much water as she could to fill her stomach. After squirming in her uncomfortable chair for a while, she fell into a restless sleep, filled with mismatched eyes, gleaming teeth and a dark form observing her from the shadows.


	4. Chapter 4

At least two of you have correctly figured out the inspiration for this story! It was the baskets wasn't it? Never trust baskets. Sit tight, because this chapter is long. I'm making up for how short the other ones have been.

* * *

When Sarah woke up the next morning, Turlach was gone. Even though her slumber had been restless and sporadic, she had not noticed when he left. It seemed the Fae could move with supernatural grace when needed. Even someone like her husband. Sarah frowned. She had taken to calling him her husband, but only because for the moment it seemed best not to upset the man she was dependent on. Even though he quite clearly did not want her for a wife any more than she wanted him for a husband, he seemed to have very… definite ideas about marriages. Sighing, she inspected her feet, and found that the wounds looked much better. Scabbing had formed on all the cuts, big and small alike, and the hideous tasting willow bark tea Turlach had been making for her seemed to be having some effect, because there was no sign of infection. For all his faults, at least he took care of her. Sarah suspected it had more to do with ensuring she would be up on her feet soon and thus useful to him, rather than any actual fondness.  
After wrapping clean bandages around her feet, she filled her stomach with cold water again, and limped outside to sit on the chair by the door. It was early morning, and the rising sun was creating a swirling blanket of mist on the warming ground. Birds chirped on the trees and something rusted among the weeds choking the cottage garden. After a while, Sarah became aware of a jaunty whistling that seemed to be floating closer and closer in the stillness of the morning. She looked around, but could see no one, until someone strode into view on the road running past the house.

"Ah, there you are precious. Enjoying the married life?"

Sarah stared at the Goblin King, now leaning on the gatepost with his arms crossed and looking decidedly pleased with himself.

"What are _you_ doing here."

"Sarah, I'm hurt!" Jareth said, pressing a hand to his chest theatrically, "Such a cold reception to an old friend! Naturally I have come to see how my favourite human is adjusting to life here in the Underground."

"You are not my friend, Jareth."

"No, I am not." He said, and fixed an intense gaze on her. "Such a pity, isn't it, that this is where you ended up in, rather than the castle in the city, precious?"

Sarah raised her head defiantly, "If you recall, I did not choose to be here anymore than I would have chosen to be at the castle."

"Always so sharp with your words, aren't you precious?" Jareth hissed, and stalked towards her making Sarah stiffen in her chair.

"You know, I could have made you my bride whether you wanted to or not. Those words of yours, " _you have no power over me_ ", they work only once. The moment you returned to the Aboveground I could have brought you back. But I didn't." He was leaning over her now, his face hovering only inches away. Sarah could feel her eyes widening in alarm and her heart beginning to hammer in her chest like it was attempting to escape. Blood was rushing through her veins and she knew, she just _knew_ , that her cheeks were beginning to turn pink. Jareth smiled the same toothy smile that evoked images of sleek and powerful predators and whispered in her ear "You might like to consider why that is, precious." And just like that, he was gone.

Air escaped from Sarah's lungs in a loud burst. She hadn't even realised she had been holding her breath. Her cheeks still burning, she swore loudly, embarrassed at her own reaction. No matter how much she loathed and despised Jareth, her treacherous senses overwhelmed her whenever he came too close. It had been the same fifteen years ago, when he had almost kissed her at the ball. Angry at herself and at Jareth, Sarah stood up and limped back inside the house, where she found a cloth and began to furiously wipe away dust from everywhere she could reach. Cleaning had always helped her calm down, and she had prided herself on her tidy apartment. The mess in this cottage not only infuriated her, it offended her. It was as if someone had looked at her and thought "What would make her the most angry?" and chosen this.

After getting rid of as much dust as she could, she scrubbed the table and chairs and the big cauldron on the fire. She tried not to think whether it had ever been cleaned before, since this is what Turlach had been using for cooking their meals. Eventually her feet were hurting again and she sat heavily on the chair outside to rest them. Little dots of red had appeared on the bandages, suggesting that some of the scabbing had been torn. She pursed her lips and leaned her head back on the cottage wall.

"What on earth have I ever done to deserve this?" she muttered out loud.

 _You wished your brother away_ , whispered her inner voice as a reply. She shifted on the chair uneasily. Well, that was of course true, but she had been young then. Young and immature, and it seemed… unfair to keep punishing her for it this long. She smiled ruefully. Fair and unfair. She never seemed to be able to escape those two things, no matter how hard she tried.

"Well, at least I seem to be building a better _basis for comparison_ now." She said mockingly, although she wasn't entirely sure whether she was mocking herself or Jareth or Turlach.

….

Someone was walking on the road passing the house again. She could hear the gravel crunching under their feet. She cracked open an eye to see who it was, and then her eyes flew open in surprise.

"Hoggle!" she screeched and leaped up on her chair. The squat figure passing the cottage yelped in surprise and fell over.

"What'd you go and yell like that for?" he demanded, getting up and grumbling all the while. When he eventually turned to look at her, his mouth dropped open.

"S-Sarah?!"

"That's right! It's me Hoggle!" Sarah couldn't contain her happiness, and smiled widely at him. Hoggle's expression darkened and her smile faded.

"Hoggle? What's wrong?"

"Nothin'! Nothin's wrong, except you went and forgot about us!" Hoggle accused, frowning at her.

"Oh Hoggle, I'm sorry." Sarah said sadly, "I didn't mean to. I just grew up."

"That ain't an excuse." Hoggle said offended "Just 'cos you grew up don't mean your memory suddenly stops working!" He turned away from her and started walking away, his back stiff with anger.

"No, Hoggle wait!" Sarah called desperately and tried to limp after him, before tripping on her own feet and falling with a loud thump. Hoggle turned to look at her and noticed her bandaged feet.

"Sarah, are you hurt?" A note of concern crept into his voice, despite himself.

Sarah hesitated before answering, thinking furiously.

"Yes, my feet are badly cut up. I don't think I can get back to the chair on my own." She said and looked at him pleadingly.

This time Hoggle hesitated, teetering between anger at being forgotten and his dislike of seeing his friend hurt. Eventually he let out a loud snort of derision and made his way to Sarah and helped her up. After depositing her into a chair inside the cottage, he looked around and then at her.

"What are you even doing here Sarah?" he asked, trying his best to keep frowning at her, even though his eyes kept wandering to the bandages on her feet which now had even more little red dots blossoming on them.

"It's a long story" Sarah answered.

Hoggle gave up. He was still angry, but he had missed her. Seeing her slowly forget about them had been hard on everyone. He sat down on a stool by the table and rubbed his face to calm down.

"Best tell me everything," he finally said.

As Sarah explained about her boyfriend and his wish, about Jareth and her marriage to Turlach, Hoggle's anger began to shift.

"That rat!" He exclaimed, "I knows he's an arrogant ass, but that's just the way the Fae are. I never would've thought he'd do something like this though!" He sat silently for a minute, frowning in concentration. "As a matter o' fact, I don't see no reason why he _would_ do this…" he muttered more to himself.

"Because he enjoys seeing me suffer." Sarah said dryly.

Hoggle glanced at her from beneath his brows "Mebbe… well, anyway, you can't stay here! It's filthy!" he said in disgust and looked around.

"I don't want to stay here either, but I don't have any shoes, remember?" Hoggle looked at her feet thoughtfully.

"This Turlach fellow, he promised to bring you shoes, didn't he?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't count on him actually doing it."

"Well, don't you worry Sarah, I'll think of something! Let me go see Sir Didymus right now, and we'll be back before you know it!"

Sarah smiled at her friend, "Alright. I'm not going anywhere." Hoggle patted her hand and hurried out of the cottage, leaving her sitting by the table.

…

It had gotten dark when Turlach returned. There had been no sign of Hoggle, but Sarah didn't know how far it was to the Bog of Eternal Stench. Turlach was on a good mood. He was carrying a large sack on his back, which he thumped victoriously onto the table. From inside, he pulled a large loaf of bread, sausages, cheese, vegetables and a smaller sack of flour. Lastly he placed a small bundle in front of Sarah.

"Those are for you" he announced, flopped on a chair and began to stuff his mouth with chunks of bread and sausage. Sarah unwrapped the bundle and found a pair of black ankle boots, with lace fastenings on the front. They were worn, scuffed and old, but looked made to last. Off-white bundles of cloth stuffed inside of them turned out to be socks.

"Never can have too many socks" Turlach commented, his mouth full of food. Sarah glanced at him unimpressed. Fae were supposed to be elegant, weren't they?  
She was about to put away the cloth the shoes were wrapped in, when she suddenly realised it was a piece of clothing as well. It was a dress that might have once been emerald green, but had faded into a patchy dull colour. It had been patched in several places, and the buttons on the front and in the tight fitting sleeves were all mismatched.

"What's this?" Sarah asked, lifting one brow at Turlach.

"A dress." He said, still eating. "I don't know how it is where you come from, but here women _don't_ wear trousers. It's indecent." He said and looked at her legs pointedly.

"For someone who had no money yesterday, you sure bought a lot of things." Sarah shot back.

"I make good baskets, I will have you know! There are parts of the Goblin city where they appreciate fine craftsmanship!" Turlach said defensively and pulled a small bottle from somewhere on his person. Sarah eyed him suspiciously as he took a swig from the bottle and deposited it back inside his waistcoat. It smelled foul, but seemed to have absolutely no effect on him.

"I'm going to bed," he announced. "I've had a long day trying to get us these small comforts in life, and all I get in return is a wife with a bad attitude." With that, he dramatically swept to the bed, pulled off his boots and lay down with his back to her. She stared at him for a while, wondering whether all Fae were this theatrical. Although, she had to admit she may have been a little harsher than she had meant. He just seemed to push all the same buttons on her temper as Jareth…

"Thank you" she finally said to his back. "For the shoes. And the dress… and the food too." The only response from the bed was a snore.

…

The next morning, Turlach left for the market again, saying he had some money left over from the baskets and was going to find a way to make more. Sarah stared after him suspiciously. No matter how good his baskets were, it seemed highly unlikely he would have made such a profit. Suddenly her eyes narrowed, and she turned to look at the drunk he had deposited her dress in. It sat innocently by Turlach's bed, motes of dust dancing in the air around it, even though she had been trying her best to clean. Opening the lid, she lifted out the dress and inspected it. On first glance, nothing seemed to be wrong, but she had keen eyes and eventually she noticed that a part of the embroidery on the neckline seemed to be missing two small gems.

"That bastard!" She exclaimed furiously.

"Who?" came a voice from the doorway. Sarah turned to look, and saw a grinning Hoggle standing there, Sir Didymus behind him.

"My lady!" Sir Didymus crowed in delight "I am absolutely overjoyed to see you again!"

"Sir Didymus!" Sarah smiled and hugged the little knight.

"Hey! What're you hugging him for! You never hugged me yesterday!" Hoggle protested, making Sarah laugh and give him a hug too.

"Where's Ludo?" She asked and peeked outside.

"I fear we could not find our girthy friend, my lady. Sir Ludo disappears occasionally, and no one knows where he goes." Sir Didymus explained.

"I see. I would have liked to see him too."

"I am sure he will turn up, Lady Sarah!"

Hoggle and Sir Didymus sat at the table and looked at Sarah.

"We've come to take you away." Hoggle said. "Sir Didymus brought Ambrocious, so you can ride him if you still don't have no shoes."

"Surprisingly, I do have shoes. Turlach brought me a pair last night. He also brought me this dress." She waved at her outfit. "It's absolutely hideous, but my own clothes were starting to stink."

Hoggle stared at the dress, and nodded. "It really is an awful rag, ain't it. Still… " he shifted uncomfortably "I'm glad to see you in a dress though."

"Sarah furrowed her brow "...what?"

Sir Didymus coughed "What he means to say, Lady Sarah, is that we are not used to seeing ladies in trousers. It makes some people uncomfortable." He shot a look at Hoggle, who was avoiding looking at both of them.

"It's just not right for women to show their legs…" he muttered miserably. Sarah stared at him dumbfounded, before bursting into laughter.

"Is this really such a common sentiment here? Turlach was making snide comments about it too, when he brought me this awful thing!"

Sir Didymus smiled, "I fear you must think we are all very backwards."

"Well, it is a bit silly to get this worked up over _trousers_." Sarah said.

"Can we talk about something else?" Hoggle said desperately, "Like, our plans, right?"

Sarah nodded, and Hoggle and Sir Didymus explained the plan, which was quite simple honestly. Hoggle lived in a different part of the garden district, about half an hour's walk away. Turlach had never met him, and had no reason to suspect Sarah even knew him. They were going to take her to Hoggle's cottage, and she would stay there with him for the time being.

"We shall figure out how to proceed, once we get you to the safety of Sir Hoggle's abode, my lady!" Sir Didymus announced.

"I've told you, I ain't no sir!"

"You are to me, my friend."

Sarah watched the good natured bickering between her friends, before suddenly remembering the dress again. She pulled it back out of the trunk where she had dropped and spread it out.

"Turlach has been thieving the gems on this!" She announced.

"A most dishonourable knave!" Sir Didymus exclaimed. "One should never tamper with a lady's gowns!"

"Where'd you get that from?" Hoggle asked and peered at the dress.

"Jareth," Sarah admitted reluctantly. "He gave it to me as a wedding present."

"Jareth, eh? Hmm." Hoggle said.

"What?"

"It's just that, I see you've taken to calling 'im by his first name, Sarah."

"What?" Sarah asked surprised. "I supposed I have. It's just, I can't go around calling him "The Goblin King" all the time, now can I?"

"Rat's a good name for him, if you ask me." Hoggle offered making Sarah laugh.

"No, I don't think I'm going to start calling him a rat either."

Sarah carefully bundled up the dress and her other clothes into a spare sack she found stashed under Turlach's bed. There was nothing else for her to take from the cottage, so their exit was swift.  
They walked towards Hoggle's home, chatting happily, their way only disrupted by Ambrocious deciding to start chasing a butterfly, throwing Sir Didymus off his back and lumbering after the fluttering little insect. Sir Didymus bellowed at his steed angrily and chased after him, joining the others a moment later, with a chastised Ambrocious in tow.

Hoggle's cottage was not much bigger than Turlach's, but it was neat and tidy. The garden was well kept, the hay on the roof looked weathered but still in good condition. Stepping inside, there was a cauldron bubbling on the fire, and there was a neat bed made in the corner behind a curtain.

"You can sleep over there, Sarah." Hoggle said. "I've got a bed up in the loft." Sarah took the whole room in, and noticed a ladder leading up to a small loft place up in the ceiling.

"Are you sure, Hoggle? I can sleep up in the loft too."

Hoggle waved the suggestion away. "You ain't gonna fit up there. It's alright, it's warmer up there anyway."

He bustled over to the cauldron on the fire, secretly glad to have company in his little cottage. Sarah and Sir Didymus sat by the table, as he laid out wooden bowls and spoons, and then ladled out fragrant and rich stew.

"Mutton." He said, "It's good for you. Eat up." Sticking his spoon in, he began to noisily slurp the thick broth. Sir Didymus sampled the food daintily

"Verily, Sir Hoggle! You are an accomplished cook!"

Hoggle turned slightly red and snorted gruffly. "'s nothin', just some stew."

They ate in silence and then sat by the fire for a while, discussing Sarah's predicament and everything that had been happening in the Labyrinth since she had been there last. She could not help but notice they kept skirting the subject of Jareth, talking about something else if the conversation even seemed to be going in that wondered whether they were doing it because of her current situation, or because of something else, but no matter how hard she tried she could not steer the conversation towards that subject.  
Eventually, Sir Didymus got up and bid them a good night. The time had flown past so fast, that none of them had even noticed that darkness was beginning to fall outside. Hoggle bashfully told Sarah, that if she wanted to take a bath he could wait outside, but she declined saying they must both be exhausted from the day, and she would take a bath in the morning. With that, they both withdrew to their beds, and for the first time in days, Sarah fell happily asleep in a comfortable, deliciously soft bed.

…

In the morning, Sarah stretched in the bed sleepily, like a contented cat. Her arm hit something solid, and she was confused to find that whatever it was seemed to be warm. She cracked open her eye to see what it was.

"Good morning, wife." Turlach said, making her scream and fall off the bed. Confused she looked around at the dingy cottage she was in, and noticed her dress glittering on the table by the fireplace, neatly folded. She gaped at Turlach.

"Did you really think leaving would be that easy?" he asked with a sneer.

"You really don't know anything, do you."


End file.
